


Everything I Thought I Wanted

by shortstackedcheesecake96



Series: Simultaneous [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Online Dating, Dirty Thoughts, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24527272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortstackedcheesecake96/pseuds/shortstackedcheesecake96
Summary: After a fulfilling year with Eric and Kyle, Stan decides to move on with Kenny. Somebody who's smart, kind, and charming, and who Stan can see a future with. But Stan is haunted by thoughts of Eric and Kyle, and wonders if he made a mistake letting them go. Can he find a compromise between what he wants and what he needs?
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman, Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman/Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman/Stan Marsh/Kenny McCormick, Stan Marsh/Kenny McCormick
Series: Simultaneous [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772527
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Everything I Thought I Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to a Styleman fic I wrote way back in 2016 called 'Everything I Need.' I love Stylennyman, not just in this kind of romantic context, but definitely in a fluffy, more platonic context too. For those of you who haven't read my first fic, this is set in an AU where Stan met Eric and Kyle on a dating website following a break-up with Gary, but you don't need to have read that in order to follow this, pfft! I've had a sequel kicking around in the back of my head for a while, but I could never figure out a way to incorporate Kenny. This is also the first sequel I've ever done to a oneshot, or any type of fic for that matter. It's exciting! I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading! I'd love to know your thoughts!

_There's a dull ache in Stan's legs. They're spread wide as he lies on a fond, familiar bed, growing ever number as Eric fucks him. But Stan isn't complaining... not that he really could with Kyle's dick in his mouth. Eric is stood at the foot of the bed, tall, and flushed above Stan. He's looking at him with dark, golden eyes, framed by the shadows of his sweaty hair, skimming his brows. His mouth is agape, and he tips his head back and groans. It's a guttural groan that rumbles in Stan's ears, and makes his cock twitch. It must be so noticeable, Stan thinks, when he's spread out like this - open, and stretched, and bare, but Stan can't imagine being anything else for his lovers. One knee is propped up on the mattress, and Eric holds one of Stan's legs in place. His fingers are buried in Stan's skin, with Kyle's own desperate fingers close, sure to leave deep, pink indentions._

_His body rocks with every steady, vigorous thrust. His skin sticks to the sheets, and instead of a headboard, his head bumps against Kyle's groin, his drenched hair sticking to the sweat-slicked skin. He suckles at the head of Kyle's cock at a rather awkward angle, but the saliva that trails out of the corner of his mouth coats Kyle's dick, and makes it easier for Stan to take him just a little deeper. Kyle holds his cock to Stan's mouth, guiding him gently, not wanting him to take more than he can manage. Pre-cum and saliva are gleaming on Stan's chin. The scent of sweat pervades his nose, and his face is on fire. The whimpers and moans are an ethereal symphony, a phantom choir that dwell in Stan's memory and only emerge from his subconscious for evening performances. Only when they called this whole thing off did Stan realise just how much of an impression his time with Eric and Kyle had left on him. He had committed a number of trysts to memory, including this one._

_"Unnh, that's it..." Kyle moans. "That's so good, Stan..."_

_"You gonna cum for me, huh?" Eric goads, in that laboured, gravelly tone that always sent Stan hurtling towards orgasm._

_Stan tries to nod, moaning around the cock in his mouth. He lifts his hips, hoping it will encourage Eric to fuck him faster. It does, and after a couple of rough, deep thrusts, Stan cums with muffled sobs. His mouth grows slightly slack around Kyle, but it seems like the vibrations of his cries are pleasurable sensation enough. Kyle whimpers and moans above him. Stinging, relieved tears bead in the creases of Stan's eyes squeezed tightly shut, and another exhilarating night melts around him._

Stan woke up with a gasp, and a stickiness in his pyjama bottoms he was getting more than used to. He hadn't had this many wet dreams since he was a teenager. But even those confusing, embarrassing dreams of adolescence didn't make him feel as wretched as these. He looked at Kenny's sleeping silhouette and frowned. Dreams were innocent enough, sure, but was it normal to dream like this five nights in a row about past lovers, while your devoted boyfriend slept soundly in your arms? Kenny wasn't getting hurt by these dreams, but ignorance certainly wasn't bliss for Stan. Just keeping the secret filled him with shame, but it was harder to imagine uttering the words out loud. Grumbling softly under his breath, he threw back the covers and padded to the bathroom to clean up.

He ripped off some toilet paper, tugging at his pyjama bottoms and pulling them down just enough to wipe his half-hard, sticky cock. He tried to avoid catching his gaze in the mirror as he did so.

His relationship with Eric and Kyle lasted about a year, and was probably the most exciting and heady time of his life thus far. Despite his frustration at these dreams, he wasn't exactly surprised he kept having them. What Stan had originally thought would be just a one-time thing to get out of his post-break-up, reluctant rut became a fulfilling, passionate relationship that he certainly wasn't expecting, but glad he had discovered.

Still, despite his relationship with Eric and Kyle doing wonders for his confidence, he still harboured insecurities. Specifically, what he could offer Eric and Kyle beyond the bedroom. Eric and Kyle had been a couple since college, and were very much in love. What could Stan possibly add to their perfect future? He feared the chemistry waning, that spark dying out, and being left alone. Back to square one. Was that really fair? Stan had embarked on his mission to try new things, to do something for himself, to stitch up his broken heart and find something sturdier, something promising. Then he met Kenny.

He was attracted to Kenny immediately, and it led him to wonder if he must just have a thing for blonds. As well as handsome, he was funny, charming, easy to be around, and honest. Qualities that Stan admired, and he saw a future with him. Especially when he told Kenny about his relationship with Eric and Kyle. He was understanding and non-judgemental, and didn't put any pressure on Stan to make decisions he was uncomfortable with. It was a heartwrenching day, breaking it off with Eric and Kyle. But it was a comfort, to end that day in Kenny's arms, and despite his insistence that he would accept whatever choice Stan made, he couldn't hide his delight at the fact that Stan's choice was him.

Eight months later, and they were still happy, still in love, and still having good sex. He supposed he had Eric and Kyle to thank for that, for his nights spent with them had made him more confident and adventurous in bed. They still had a future too, but when Stan searched his mind for that sparkling future, it was being overshadowed by the past. He had moved on, so why was he still thinking about Eric and Kyle?

The sound of his ringing alarm, vibrating against the night-stand pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Stan..." Kenny said, half-muffled against the pillow. "Your alarm..."

"Could you turn it off for me?"

He heard Kenny's sleepy grumblings, the springs of the mattress squeaking as he shuffled over to his side of the bed and turned his alarm off. Stan threw the used toilet paper down the toilet and flushed, washing his hands before emerging from the bathroom. Despite the disturbance, Kenny was lying on his stomach again, a lean, tanned arm dangling over the side of the bed. Stan smiled.

"You're not going back to sleep are you?"

"Mmhm," Kenny mumbled, not opening his eyes. "My shift doesn't start until ten."

He grinned.

"You're already awake."

"I'm half-awake. How often do I get to sleep in?" Kenny's brow furrowed, and he grabbed the duvet to cover his shoulders. "Don't take this away from me."

Stan crouched down, peering at Kenny's half-asleep face.

"So nothing I can do will get you out of bed?"

"Nope..."

"Not even this..."

Stan leaned in, pressing his lips to Kenny's. Kenny grumbled, but the corners of his mouth were creeping upward. He returned the kiss lazily, but it was dry, and didn't taste very nice. It was a sloppy kiss, crumbling as they giggled.

"Especially not that," Kenny said when he pulled away, eyes still closed. He wiped his mouth. "Your breath reeks."

Stan stood up, chuckling.

"Well, yours isn't exactly minty fresh either."

"Hmmph."

"I can get some mouthwash-"

Kenny chuckled into the pillow, smile widening to reveal his teeth.

"No, just get out of here," he said, tugging the covers up over his face.

Stan bit his lip, smile still wide and his shoulders drooped as he studied his sleeping boyfriend. He tried to remind himself that this was what was important. He vowed to get the dream out of his mind as he got ready for work.

* * *

His vow to put Eric and Kyle out of his mind for the rest of the day appeared to be working, as it was now lunchtime and they had yet to cross Stan's mind. He had been kept busy admittedly, with check-ups, and tending to a kitten's wounded paw. There was no time to dwell on the past, and certainly no time to fantasise about ex-boyfriends. Right now, it felt like he was covering the tears in a sinking ship, buying himself time before cold, icy water engulfed him. He dreaded time spent alone, a lull in his day, or a sleepless night.

But right now, he was in one of his favourite places. The coffee shop where one of his best friends worked, the place where he met Kenny. He shuffled in line with the other customers, letting the soft sound of The Cranberries drift into his ears, and the smell of freshly baked pastries float into his nose. Kenny was on cashier duty today, and Stan couldn't help but watch him serve, remembering how that endearing, gap-toothed smile had floored him the first time he saw it. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to contain his smile when it was turn to be served.

Kenny grinned, sighed in mock exasperation.

"You again?"

His grin was infectious, Stan easily returned it.

"Yep. Me again."

"An Americano and a bear claw to go, right?"

Stan frowned, his scarf now felt itchy around his flushed neck.

"How did you know that?"

Kenny arched a pierced eyebrow.

"As if you don't order the same thing every time you can come in here."

"I don't order the same thing every day!"

"But that is what you were gonna order, right?"

"No! I was gonna order... uhh..."

Stan studied the extensive menu above Kenny's head. There were so many options and it was overwhelming. It was like a small tableau of his indecisive nature.

_How am I supposed to choose between three guys I'm crazy for when I can't even choose a damn coffee? No, we're not thinking about them!_

Kenny leaned in.

"There is a line..."

"Fine," Stan grumbled. "I'll take the Americano and the bear claw, please."

Kenny beamed, smug,

"That'll be seven dollars. Apple pay?"

Stan scowled as he placed his phone on the terminal.

"Thank you, sir. Your order will be right with you."

Stan narrowed his eyes with a wry smile.

"Thanks."

He moved aside to the little waiting area, but Kenny soon arrived with his coffee to go and his bear claw in a paper bag.

"Here you go..."

The paper crinkled as Kenny passed the bag to Stan. He smiled.

"See you tonight."

Kenny only had time to return the smile before another customer needed to be served. Stan's smile didn't waver as he left the store, he had a feeling it would still be on his face when he arrived at the office.

"Hey, Stan..."

A familiar voice spoke behind him, a distinct vocal fry.

He turned around, and saw Henrietta leaning against the wall. She had one arm wrapped around her chest, supporting her other elbow as she smoked.

"Hen! Sorry, I didn't see you there."

"It's fine," Henrietta replied, taking a drag.

"How are you?"

She nodded, watching her cigarette smoke disappear into the air.

"Good as I can be. How about you?"

Stan gulped. Henrietta was the only person he had told about his predicament. He trusted her completely.

"Yeah, I'm great-"

"Still having those dreams?"

Stan sighed, hung his head.

"Yes..."

Henrietta gave nothing away, she just looked at Stan as she assessed what she was about to say next.

"And they're still..."

"Yep..." Stan said, voice throaty and uncomfortable like the admission was forced from him. He knew exactly what she was asking. He sighed. "I can't stop thinking about them, Hen."

"Have you told Kenny?"

"No. God, no..." he shook his head, just contemplating it was painful. "I'd feel terrible."

"Can't be any worse than what you're feeling now. Look, man, you haven't committed a crime, okay?" Henrietta said, cracking a small, sympathetic smile. "You're the only one who's getting hurt by all this."

"So that makes it fine?"

"No, but maybe cut yourself some slack. You haven't cheated-"

"I feel like I have," Stan mumbled.

"That's because you're keeping it a secret."

Stan shook his head, face creasing because he knew she was right but that didn't make it easier to hear.

"I can't tell Kenny," he repeated. He was adamant he wouldn't let it come to that. He wouldn't hurt him just to take an emotional weight off. "I... I can't face it."

Henrietta nodded.

"Okay... then why don't you reach out to them? Eric and Kyle?"

Stan blinked. He hadn't considered that possibility. It was just as terrifying to imagine as telling Kenny, but it still held prickling intrigue.

"Huh?"

"I know you think these dreams mean that you're not over them, that you're still into them, that you wanna hook up with them, but why do they have to mean those things? You're happy with Kenny, but there's clearly still unfinished business between you guys. Maybe your brain is telling you to resolve that business, just with sexy messaging."

"Yeah..." Stan nodded. He didn't know if this was making sense to him because he wanted it to make sense, but it made him feel marginally better. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

Henrietta shrugged.

"So get in touch and ask if they wanna go out for a drink or something."

Stan shivered at the thought, with nerves, and excitement, and promising relief. This could be the key to getting over them once and for all, maybe they were feeling the same way. Dirty dreams and fantasising aside, maybe there _were_ matters that needed to be resolved and that couldn't happen without a meeting, a conversation. Besides, the thought of seeing them again, talking to them again and just being in their company was a pleasant one. God knows it had been too long... Stan felt awful for how long it had been when he had promised to keep in touch.

"Okay... okay, I will! Our relationship was more than sex, we can keep it platonic!" Stan's voice was rising as he babbled, justified himself out loud. "Maybe that's what my brain is telling me? I miss them, so why can't our friendship continue?"

"There you go." Henrietta smiled. "Let me know how it goes, alright?"

Stan marched back to the office, determined to text Kyle. He seemed like the safer bet. Kyle was the first person he had talked to, had most of his conversations with before that first, initial hook-up. It seemed only right. But he had never been so nervous to contact him. His phone was slick on his palms, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. He chewed at his lip, typing out his message ten times before he sent one he was finally happy with, and he had to close his eyes as he pressed send.

" _Hey, Kyle. I'm sorry to message you out of the blue and I hope this isn't too weird, but I've been thinking and I'd really love to catch up with you and Eric. It's been too long, and I'd really like to see you guys again. There's no pressure if it's something you don't feel comfortable with right now. I hope you and Eric are well."_

Stan read it three times, taking a shuddering breath. He tried to busy himself with Instagram and Twitter, with catching up on the news. He almost dropped the phone when it buzzed, a message from Kyle appearing at the top of the screen. His thumb was slippery on the screen as he rushed to open it.

_"Hey, Stan! It's good to hear from you, and we would love to catch up! What were you thinking?"_

It was typical Kyle, putting him at ease immediately. A wide smile spread across Stan's face, relieved and grateful.

_"That's great. I'm actually so relieved lol are you free for lunch this saturday?"_

His gut clenched with anxiety again, and he hung on the dots bubbling away on Kyle's end of the chat.

" _I am, but Eric isn't."_

A new message.

_"He's covering something out of town for the paper and won't be home until Saturday evening."_

Another new message.

_"But we can still meet up just the two of us?"_

Stan blinked, shifting in his seat. He was eager, but unsure.

_"really?"_

_"Sure!"_

_"you don't think Eric would mind?"_

Stan's head whirred with a sudden rush of déjà vu.

_"Of course not. I'd love to see you, Stan."_

Stan's shoulders slouched, a helpless smile on his face. How could he refuse that?

_"Ok it's a date!"_

He stared, horrified at the message and couldn't believe had just sent that. He couldn't type fast enough to rectify his mistake.

_"shit, sorry, not a date! You know what I mean."_

_"Lol I do know what you mean."_

Stan took a deep, relieved breath. His heated face now simmering.

" _It's so great to hear from you, Stan."_

Stan read the message once, twice, three times. It melted his heart over and over.

_"yeah it's nice talking to you again."_

* * *

Stan had been sitting in the restaurant for ten minutes, but he was still shaking. He reached for his ice cold water, his sweaty fingerprints smudging the glass. It clinked between his teeth as he took a sip. He was still waiting for Kyle, eyes trained on the door. But when he spotted that familiar flash of red hair, his nerves melted immediately, and when Kyle smiled, it was bright enough to make his nerves evaporate altogether. Stan stood up as he approached their table. His hands were still wringing in front of him, still damp with sweat.

"Hey..." he smiled.

Kyle's eyes were crinkled at the corners, grin stretched across his face.

"Hi!"

Just like the first time they met, Kyle pulled Stan into his embrace. The nostalgia, the security, the comfort, and Kyle's scent was so piercing that Stan's eyes stung with tears. He returned the hug, clasped Kyle in his arms and tugged him closer.

"It's so good to see you, Kyle," he murmured into his neck.

Kyle pulled away, beaming at him.

"You too! How have you been?" he asked, as he took his seat.

"Yeah, I've been great," Stan replied, sitting down too. "I've just... I've been thinking a lot about you guys lately, and we said we would keep in touch, right? So it seems silly not to do that."

"Totally."

Stan had decided in the days leading up to this lunch date that he wasn't going to mention the dreams he had been having. It was unnecessary, and Kyle's reaction was too unpredictable to risk spoiling what could be a fantastic catch-up.

"Can I get you any drinks to start off with?" their waiter asked.

"Um, yes, I'll have a dirty martini, please," Kyle replied.

"Scotch on the rocks, please."

The waiter tapped their orders into his tablet.

"Perfect." He smiled. "Coming right up."

Kyle leaned in closer when they were alone.

"You haven't changed."

"Neither have you."

They chuckled, before Kyle reclined in his chair.

"So how are things with... Kenny, right?"

Stan blinked, surprised that Kenny's name was brought up in conversation so readily. But maybe it shouldn't have shocked him, since he and Kyle followed each other on Instagram, and there were plenty of photos of him and Kenny on there. Kyle even liked some of them. His stomach sank a little with what he supposed was a guilty feeling, but Stan was able to smother that sensation by clearing his throat.

"Kenny, yeah, things are really good, thanks. We moved in together about a month ago. He's doing his Master's Degree in School Counselling, and he's about to start an internship soon."

Kyle nodded, taking a sip of water.

"Wow, so is he gonna be working in an elementary school, or high school? Does he have a preference?"

"Elementary school, I think. He would be great at both, he really has a way of like, connecting with people, you know? He isn't the loudest person in the room, but he's still so confident and he's the least judgemental person I've ever met. He just wants to listen and help."

"Well, I think we need a lot more people like that in the world..." Kyle said softly.

Stan arched an eyebrow at him, and smiled.

"I think you're kinda like that though..."

Kyle blinked, and chuckled weakly. He nudged his fork with his index finger.

"Really? I'm very opinionated, and vocal. Like, I wanna help, sure, but sometimes it's best to keep quiet and I don't know when to do that."

"Your drinks, gentlemen," their waiter announced. "The dirty martini?"

"Yes, thank you," Kyle replied, accepting his rather large cocktail.

"And the scotch?"

"Thanks," Stan replied, watching the tumbler being placed on the table.

"Are you ready to order?"

"Oh, we hadn't looked yet," Stan said, glancing guiltily at the untouched menus.

"That's no problem," the waiter replied, though Stan didn't think that was entirely true. "I'll come back in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Kyle said. He watched the waiter walk away, before he turned back to Stan with a grin. "I guess we'd better look before he comes back, huh?"

"Yeah, I think we should..." Stan laughed, reaching for a menu.

They discussed the menu and finalised their choices, the waiter delighted when he returned to their table and took their orders. Then they were alone again.

"How are things with you and Eric?"

Kyle nodded, sucking the olive from its stick and chewing.

"Very good, thanks. In fact..." he smirked. "I think he's gonna propose."

Stan should have been happy for Kyle, that he may soon be engaged to his long-term boyfriend. But he only felt deflated, because this announcement just proved his theory right, that what he had with Kyle and Eric would ultimately be impossible to sustain.

"Oh, really?" he replied, struggling to hide his... if not disappointment, then resignation.

"Yeah..." Kyle looked at Stan with eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Stan gulped, fingers shaking again.

"Yes! Why?"

"You just seemed a little... taken back, and not in a good way."

Stan sighed, rolled his eyes.

"Well, I didn't mean it to come off like that, I just... how do you know he's going to propose?" he asked, wanting to move the conversation along.

"He's been in his head a lot, lately. I know he's up to something when he daydreams like that, and I catch him, like, looking at me and smiling with this wicked grin on his face..." Kyle rolled his eyes, but his smile was soft and fond. "Because Eric can't just take me out to a nice restaurant and propose, there has to be... fireworks, and serenading, and the _Denver Nuggets_..."

Stan couldn't help but smirk, arch an eyebrow.

"The _Denver Nuggets_?"

"He took me to a _Denver Nuggets_ game for my birthday one year and paid some guy off so he could serenade me at half-time on the jumbo-tron with 'our song.'"

"I didn't know you guys had a song..."

"It's _I Swear_? All 4 one?" Kyle replied, nose wrinkling a little with embarrassment. "We slow danced to it at, like, my cousin's wedding not long after we started dating, and it sort of became our song."

Stan smiled. This was what he wanted, memories to cherish and songs to claim as their own. He didn't know if he and Kenny had a song yet, but he was sure one would become apparent to them, with time. It made his very presence, sat across the table with Kyle, feel a little sour. Shouldn't he be content with what he had? Wasn't it enough to be another footnote on Eric and Kyle's long relationship? Someone they could reminisce about years down the line?

"So do you have any ideas what he's gonna do?"

Kyle had taken a sip of his drink, and he shook his head.

"No. I don't know the exact details. I think this whole thing with the paper this weekend is a cover-up. I think he's preparing something."

And that only soured Stan more, to think he was taking Kyle out for lunch while Eric was potentially off planning his proposal.

"Does he know you're here with me?"

Kyle blinked, like the question had struck him. He frowned.

"Yeah, he does..."

"And he's okay with it?"

"Yes, he is," Kyle replied, practically glaring at him. "I told you he would be, Stan."

Stan hated knowing he had offended Kyle, when he really hadn't meant to. He raised his hands.

"Okay, I was just asking..."

"Does Kenny know you're here with me?" Kyle asked, sharp and unwavering, cutting Stan down immediately.

Kenny _did_ know Stan was here. He had been so anxious to even tell Kenny where he was going, but Kenny had understood, been happy for Stan that he was going to catch up with a guy who clearly meant a lot to him. If he was jealous at all, he was really good at hiding it. But it still made Stan feel like shit.

"Yeah..."

"And he's fine with it?"

"Of course he is." Stan sighed, realising what he had just accused Kyle of. "Sorry, I just..."

"No, I get it," Kyle replied, with his own sigh. He ran a hand through his hair. "We're friends, and I'll always want us to be friends but... there's history here, and it's pointless trying to pretend it doesn't exist."

Stan nodded, knowing that Kyle - as always - was right. Kyle was his friend, and Stan wanted to hold on to his friendship, but they had been something more once, had shared feelings more intense, than simply amounted to friendship.

"Did you and Eric try any other guys?" Stan asked, finally having the chance to after being curious for so long. "After me?"

Kyle sighed, almost forlorn.

"In the beginning... one or two. But it didn't feel the same. We didn't really want to do that kind of thing anymore." His eyes wandered the table before he looked up at Stan, smile tight and eyes brimming with a familiar affection. "They were nothing compared to you, Stan."

Stan tried to gulp down the lump in his throat.

"Really?"

"Yeah..." Kyle snickered. "You kinda spoiled us."

Stan snickered too, cheeks burning. He ducked his head.

"Sorry..."

"Don't apologise," Kyle said, earnest enough to draw Stan's gaze back to him. "We loved every minute of it, Stan."

Stan nodded slowly, like he was accepting the fact that it was okay to think about it, it was okay to miss it.

"Yeah..." he replied, in a soft exhale. "Me too... I still think about it."

"Remember when we went to Aruba?" Kyle grinned. "And we splashed out on that suite?"

Stan chuckled as he reminisced. It was an impromptu trip booked only a couple of months after Stan started seeing Eric and Kyle. Just ten days of sun, and sex, and cocktails, and nightly strolls on the beach.

"Yeah, that was an amazing trip." Stan grinned. "You got so sun-burned."

Kyle laughed, rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you and Eric got those gorgeous tans and I come home looking like a fuckin' lobster..."

Stan's shoulders shook with laughter. Kyle grinned, leaned in a little closer.

"Remember when you and Eric rubbed aloe vera cream on my back though?" he asked, in that low, humid tone Stan would never forget.

Stan's breath hitched as the memory came back to him. Kyle, lying on his belly, shoulders a painful red while the rest of his back faded into a sore pink shade. Stan remembered the cute little gasp as a generous dollop of cold, green cream was squirted onto his back, how he had groaned into the pillow when his and Eric's hands rubbed the cream into his sunburn, massaging with gentle pressure. Stan remembered Kyle's hot skin beneath his fingers, two pairs of hands all over him, and how he had writhed. He remembered how Kyle had arched and cried out when Eric's hand slid under his belly, and stroked his cock, cold cream coming into contact with sensitive skin.

"Yeah... I can still fucking smell it." Stan smiled. Stinging, tart aloe vera melding with sweat. "Remember those nights in the hot tub? On the balcony?"

They took full advantage of having a private hot tub. Stan remembered slippery bodies, salty kisses, hands all over him, and the bubbles having quite an interesting affect on his boner.

"Yeah, that was incredible..." Kyle sighed, staring off into nowhere.

"What was incredible is how long you could hold your breath..."

Kyle laughed, covered it with his hand and blushed.

"All of it was... amazing..."

"It really was..." Stan whispered, cheeks simmering as the memories floated back into his sub-conscious.

"Do you miss it?"

When Stan looked into Kyle's gleaming eyes, he could tell he was looking for an affirmative, and Stan figured he should be honest.

"Yes. Yes, of course I do."

Kyle nodded, lips pressed tightly together. His eyes were growing misty.

"I miss it too..." He whispered. Stan felt his foot brush against his. "We both do..."

Stan moved his foot away, remembering himself. He shook his head.

"But what future did it have, Kyle? How long could we have kept it up? Hiding it from people, and..." he sighed, lowered his head. His face was creased. "I hated having to visit my parents, and listen to them worry about me being alone, having not found someone, when I had already met two, fantastic guys who I cared about and loved. But I couldn't tell them, because how could I expect them to understand? What even was I?" His voice was straining, on the verge of cracking. "In this relationship, what was I? The third wheel?"

"No!" Kyle replied, bewildered. "God, Stan, you weren't a third wheel!"

"Then what was I? What could I have possibly added to you and Eric's relationship? You were happy before me, you're happy after me, god, you're probably gonna get married soon! Where would I have fit in? In your plans? What was I, Kyle?" his voice had cracked now, tears filling the fissures.

Kyle didn't look at Stan as he considered his answer.

"You were..." he rested his hand on top of Stan's, and Stan didn't try to move it. He smiled. "An amazing addition to our lives, Stan. You were the person we never knew we needed. Yeah, we were happy but we didn't know just how happy we could be until we met you."

Stan let Kyle hold his hand until their food arrived. It was the perfect opportunity for them to separate, to collect themselves, and possibly move on to other topics of conversation. They found plenty to discuss, to keep them from wandering into awkward, possibly dangerous territory, and after they had paid the cheque and walked out of the restaurant Stan was considering this lunch a mild success. He supposed the true test would be this evening, if he went a night without dreaming about Eric and Kyle.

They were waiting for Kyle's Uber, chatting to pass the time. A car pulled up next to them, and Kyle glanced at his phone.

"I think this is me..." he said, before tucking his phone in his coat pocket.

"Okay..." Stan replied, disappointed to see Kyle go. "Well, thanks for this, Kyle. I feel like it was just what I needed."

Kyle beamed, pulled him into a hug.

"Me too," he replied, slightly muffled into Stan's neck. But it didn't take away the sincerity. "We'll have to do it again sometime."

Stan nodded, giving Kyle a squeeze. He had missed holding him like this, the smell of Kyle's shampoo and cologne filling his nose, how safe and secure it felt. There was a twinge in his chest, when he remembered he would eventually have to let Kyle go. But he didn't want to let him go. They pulled away from each other slowly, a long, difficult extraction. Their eyes met like magnets, lidded, and contemplative, and hungry. Stan's heart was hammering at his ribcage, and he was sure he could hear Kyle's pounding to the same terrified tempo.

Suddenly, their lips crashed together. Kyle tugged at Stan's hair, and Stan squeezed Kyle's waist and Stan couldn't reconcile how this was supposed to be wrong, when it felt so right.

"Kenny's not..." Kyle was panting when they separated, foreheads and noses touching. "Kenny's not expecting you back soon, is he?"

He kissed Stan before he could answer him, but he could hardly think straight with Kyle's tongue in his mouth. He knew he should stop kissing Kyle, apologise, remind him that they definitely shouldn't be doing this. But he didn't have the heart, or the clear head right now to do any of those things.

"I... I-I-I don't know..." he instead offered, kissing Kyle again to reaffirm that _this_ was the right thing to do _now_. "I think I've got some more time."

Kyle smiled, eyes glimmering with hope, and a giddy, relieved noise escaped his lips before they were pressed to Stan's again.

"Come back with me..." he murmured, ragged, and Stan couldn't refuse.

He nodded, falling into the Uber with Kyle.

* * *

Reality still hadn't returned to Stan, and in his post-orgasm haze he was trying to fight it off for as long as possible. They had refrained from kissing, or talking in the Uber. Stan didn't feel particularly sexy, anyway, car-sick and shaking with nerves. He wished he had brought his inhaler with him, but he didn't think he would be needing it. Kyle's fingers slipping between his own steadied him when the car pulled up outside his apartment, and when they entered, it was all so fond, and familiar, that when Kyle wrapped his arms around his shoulders and crashed their lips together, Stan _had_ to return his kiss. He had to stumble to the bedroom, and strip, and kiss, and touch, and he wanted Kyle so badly.

Kyle was still on top of him, thighs trembling either side of his hips, and Stan's cock was still buried deep inside him. He was still rolling his hips, in that slow, indulgent way that made Stan's grip on reality even looser. He was thankful for that. He blinked his burning eyes open, saw Kyle's skin gleaming with sweat. His head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, and the perspiration only illuminated the elegant lines of his throat that Stan had almost forgotten loving so much. Panting breaths and whimpers rained from his mouth, and his cum was drying on Stan's belly. Stan groaned, threw his own head back. He wanted to savour this for as long as he could, before he could no longer convince himself this was just another vivid dream. At least that way, it wouldn't feel like a nightmare.

"D-d-don't move..." Stan pleaded, hands on Kyle's hips and fingers kneading his flesh. "Don't move a sec..."

" _Unh-huh..."_ Kyle moaned.

He continued to roll his hips until exhaustion got the better of him, and he collapsed beside Stan. Just like that, the spell was broken. Reality was switched back on, casting Stan's actions in a horrible, unforgiving light, incinerating any justifications he had before. Kyle was silent beside him, save for his laboured breaths, and even though Kyle's embrace was his downfall this afternoon, he still reached out to him. He pulled his hot, sweaty body close and buried his face in his neck. Stan wished he could hide there forever, with that familiar scent, in this familiar bed, with Kyle's soothing words, and mending touches so close.

"You okay?"

Kyle's words floated on top of Stan's head, like a gentle breeze through his hair.

Stan's eyes stung, his face creased at the invitation to open up. But he hid all that from Kyle, and nodded. He felt Kyle's chest rise and fall above him.

"Look at me..."

Stan pulled away, eyes blinking and wet. Kyle was staring at him, contemplative, and even if he looked just as lost, he still reached up and stroked Stan's cheek. It was far too easy then, for their lips to meet, a comforting kiss.

"That was amazing, Stan..." Kyle murmured.

Stan nodded, despite everything, and kissed him again.

"I've missed you so much..."

It was Kyle's turn to nod, to return the kiss.

"I've missed you too..."

"Are you gonna tell Eric about this?" Stan asked, reality fighting its way back in and he couldn't stop it.

Kyle pursed his lips, rubbed Stan's cheek with his thumb as he considered it.

"I don't know... probably..." he looked into Stan's eyes, frowning. "You're not gonna tell Kenny, are you?"

Stan felt his whole body deflate at the mention of Kenny. It was unusual, to think of him and feel such crushing guilt and dread, rather than the usual fondness.

"I can't..." he replied, brittle and devastated.

His nose was stinging again, his vision blurring, and so he retreated into the warm safety of Kyle's neck.

"What the fuck am I doing, Kyle?" he asked, nose nuzzling Kyle's throat.

Kyle pulled him closer, undeterred by Stan shuddering in his arms.

"It's okay..." he murmured, placing a kiss in his hair.

Kyle let him cry for a bit, petting his hair and stroking his back until Stan felt like he could part. He pulled away with a few sniffles, his face dewy and eyes sore.

"I really should shower..." he muttered, a little embarrassed.

Kyle nodded with a small smile, watching Stan get out of bed. He noticed the condom still hanging limply from his dick, and flushed. They snickered softly while Stan removed it and disposed of it in the trash can. He padded to the bathroom, and once in the shower, with the stream of hot water pelting his skin and the events of this afternoon swirling around the drain, he thought about what he was going to say to Kyle before he left, what this all meant, and he thought of Kenny too. Kenny, who had trusted him. Kenny, who loved him and wanted a future with him. Kenny, who he had wanted to protect and cherish, but Stan had failed spectacularly at that. He wondered if he deserved him at all.

With that thought, he turned the shower off and stepped out to dry. He ruffled his hair with a towel, and wrapped a larger one around his waist. It was only then that he heard murmured conversation coming from the bedroom, a rumbling, foreboding noise like an impending storm. He almost didn't want to leave the steamy bathroom, but he couldn't hide in there forever. Besides, he wanted to make sure Kyle was okay. How spineless would it be, for Kyle to face whatever unpleasant conversation he was having alone, while he waited it out in the bathroom?

He crept towards the door and opened it slowly, only to find that Eric and Kyle were watching him the entire time. Eric's body was drawn tight, stood by the bed and body quivering, almost effervescent with the questions he was yet to ask, while Kyle remained under the covers, knees drawn up and eyeing Stan warily.

"Hey, Stan..." Eric said with a sardonic grin.

Stan wanted to curl up again. He fought the urge to wrap his arms around himself.

"Hi, Eric..." he replied, but his gaze kept wandering to Kyle.

Eric 's head swivelled as he looked between the both of them, never losing that tight, mean smile.

"Looks like you two had an interesting lunch. I'll just let you get dressed."

He stormed out of the room before Stan or Kyle could respond, slamming the door.

"What the fuck, Kyle?" Stan whispered, rushing over to him.

Kyle sighed, eyes roaming the foot of the bed.

"I know. I didn't think he'd be home so soon."

"Are you alright? Are you and him..."

Kyle looked up, as if he was unsure what Stan was getting at, before it dawned on him.

"Yeah, it's fine." He nodded. "We'll be fine, he obviously knew it was you, I... I think it's best if you just go."

Stan nodded too, vigorous and anxious.

"Definitely, let me just..."

He rushed to the bathroom to get his clothes, they were slightly creased but he didn't care. He wandered into the bedroom as he got changed, inching ever closer to Kyle.

"Kyle, I'm so sorry-"

"No, don't apologise," Kyle cut in with a sad smile. He shook his head. "Really, there's no need."

Stan returned the smile, wanting to part with a kiss but they both refrained. When Stan left the bedroom, he saw Eric sitting on the couch. He didn't acknowledge Stan, and Stan didn't know if that was deliberate, or if he was too busy seething to notice him. He swallowed the guilty, anxious lump in his throat.

"Eric, I can explain-"

"Great," Eric cut in, eyes narrowed as he got up off the couch and approached him. "I'd love to hear your explanation."

Stan sighed, looked to his trembling, empty hands.

"I... I just... I've been thinking about you two... a lot." He swallowed, frustrated at how this sounded so much better over lunch with Kyle. But so much had happened since then. "I've been thinking about how great we used to be together, and if I made the right decision to leave and I..."

"What?" Eric snapped. "Wanted to get something out of your system? Wanted to use Kyle so you could feel better about yourself?"

The accusation stung, but it made Stan bolder.

"No! No, it wasn't like that at all!"

"I know it's hard," Eric said, voice low and earnest. "Putting everything we had behind you but... we have to move on. You're the one who wanted to end this!"

Stan hung his head, eyes closed.

"I know, I know I was-"

"Do you know how fucking devastated we were when you left? We didn't wanna lose you! But we listened to you, and god, Kyle was fucking tore up for weeks, and I'm not gonna let you put him through that again!"

"I said I'm sorry, what more do you want from me? I fucked up, I get it, but... how do I make it right?" Stan was pleading, because he really wanted to know if it was even possible.

Eric sighed, studied the floor for answers, before he looked into Stan's eyes. He looked tired.

"Go home to your boyfriend. Think really hard about what you want, and don't fuck us around."

Stan nodded, gulping.

"Okay..."

"I can't believe I'm seeing you again under these fucking circumstances." A rueful smile trembled across his lips. "What the hell, Stan?"

They both chuckled, and it was quiet, and sombre, but at least it was something to ease the tension.

"I know..."

They shared an embrace, more tentative, and sheepish than the ones he shared with Kyle, because Stan knew Eric didn't do comfort. But he had still missed being braced by him, being in his arms still stole his breath even now. Stan gasped when Eric found his lips, a firm imploring kiss.

"I'm not gonna tell you to make the right decision, because I don't know what that is. But..." Eric paused, collected a ragged breath. His brows were furrowed when he looked into Stan's eyes. "Make the decision you can live with, okay? Make the decision that's right for you."

Stan nodded, raked his gaze over him as they parted.

"It really is good to see you again, Eric," he said. It was all he could think to say.

Eric nodded, with a tight smile. He gave Stan's arm a squeeze.

"Yeah, you too..."

* * *

Stan couldn't remember how he got home. He left Kyle and Eric's apartment with Eric's words ringing in his ears, numbing him to everything else going on around him. But suddenly he was stumbling down the hallway to his front door, nauseous with guilt, and confusion, and despair. He just felt bloated, full to the brim with it all and he needed to purge his insides of this noxious feeling. Reality had returned to him long ago, but opening the door to his apartment and seeing Kenny's oblivious face was like the final confrontation. Unavoidable, inexorable. He closed his eyes, took a shuddering breath and opened the door.

Music was playing softly, something was sizzling in a pan. Kenny was busying himself in their kitchen, unaware that Stan had arrived (among other things). Stan gagged on the lump in his throat. When Kenny looked over his shoulder and smiled, it felt like a bullet had lodged itself in his gut.

"Hey..." he glanced at his phone and chuckled. "That was a long lunch."

Stan froze, the words crawling over his flesh.

"Huh?!"

Kenny raised an eyebrow, but his smile didn't waver.

"I said that was a long lunch. I didn't think you'd be home so late."

"Oh... oh, we, uh, went for a drink."

Kenny nodded.

"That's cool. Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah..." Stan mumbled, busying himself with taking off his coat so he didn't have to look into Kenny's eyes.

Each question stung like the lash of a whip.

"How's Kyle?"

Stan had to grind his teeth to stop himself wincing.

"He's fine..."

Kenny shook his head and chuckled. He gave the frying pan a little shake, stirring the sautéing peppers with a wooden spoon.

"Damn, if I rob a bank I want it to be with you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're not giving much away."

Kenny was still smiling, making it all the harder for Stan to figure out if his ruse was unravelling.

"I-I-I don't know what else you want me to say..."

It was then Kenny frowned, moved closer.

"Are you alright?"

Stan nodded furiously. His palms were damp, his gut was clenching. He grasped the chair where his coat was hanging to keep himself steady. He felt like he could pass out.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine, just tired... sorry..." Every word was effort, heaving out of him.

Kenny nodded warily, unconvinced.

"It's okay... I hope you have room for dinner, though." He grinned. "I'm making quesadillas!"

Another lump pushed into Stan's throat, but it was one he couldn't easily swallow down. His secret, toxic and foul, forcing itself out of him. He ran to the bathroom, one hand clutching his stomach while he held his other hand over his mouth.

"Stan?" Kenny called after him. "Stan!"

He vomited as soon as his knees hit the bathroom tiles, hunched over the toilet and retching. His nose wrinkled at the awful, acidic smell, and his eyes burned with tears. He didn't look up when he heard Kenny enter the room, when he felt his body beside him, or his hand stroking his back.

"Hey, it's okay..." Kenny murmured, undeterred as he listened to Stan throw up. "Just let it out..."

When the last of it seemed to come up, Stan felt emptied. His body quivered beneath Kenny's palm, and a long, thin trail of saliva hung from his lips. He spat into the toilet bowl.

"Jeez, I didn't think my cooking was that bad..."

Despite everything, a weak smile stretched across Stan's face. He felt he didn't deserve to smile, or laugh at Kenny's jokes right now. His face crumpled, and he pressed his hand to his forehead, his elbow resting on the rim.

"It's not that..." he mumbled.

"Maybe you ate something bad at lunch-"

Stan shook his head.

"No, it's not that either."

Kenny sighed, hand slipping away from Stan's back.

"Alright, what's going on?"

Fresh tears welled in Stan's eyes when he looked at Kenny, a confused, concerned blur. There was an unbearable pressure in his chest, his heart tearing in two.

"Kenny, I'm so sorry..." he whispered.

Kenny frowned, eyebrows furrowed.

"Wh... why are you sorry? Did..." he blinked, gulped. "Did something happen with you and Kyle?"

Stan's lip wobbled, no words would come out. He just nodded, sniffling, with some tears roaming down his cheeks. He took a deep, shuddering breath, willing for words to come out. He owed Kenny that much.

"We went back to his apartment... and... we had sex." He pressed his wrists to his eyes and sighed. When he looked at Kenny, he saw him reeling, the hurt written plainly across his face. "I'm sorry, Kenny, I'm so sorry."

"What the fuck, Stan?!" he cried, scrambling to his feet.

"I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, you keep saying! I thought it was over between you guys!"

"It is!" Stan cried, he shuffled closer to Kenny, still on his knees. At this point, he really wasn't above grovelling at his feet for forgiveness. "Kenny, it's not gonna happen again, I promise you-"

"How can I believe that, Stan? I..." He buried his head in his hands, dragged his palms over his face so they stretched his features. He sighed, raised his hands as if he was ridding himself of all this. "I, I need to go... I need to clear my head."

Kenny walked out without another word and, panicked, Stan rushed after him.

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk," Kenny replied, with his back still to him.

Stan reached out, desperate to keep him there.

"Can we please talk about this?"

Kenny had already opened the door, and when he looked over his shoulder his expression was one Stan had never seen on his face before. Cold, and hard, and hurt.

"When I come back, we'll talk about it," he said, before slamming the door on any further discussion... for now.

Stan just stared after him, in disbelief he could ruin this so spectacularly. He didn't follow Kenny, he felt he deserved some space and time alone after all that had happened. But that didn't settle his mind, didn't stop him staring at his phone, and calling and texting after an hour passed and Kenny still hadn't returned. His calls went unanswered, his texts unread, and Stan felt like this was what he deserved for trying to have it all.

Another hour went by, and Stan jolted when Kenny walked through the door. His shoulders were drawn up, his chin lowered, but he was trying to smile. Stan wanted to run to him, wrap his arms around him and pull him close, but he felt like that may be inappropriate. So instead he just sat up and smiled, eyes and nose prickling.

"Hey..."

"Hi..." Kenny whispered, shutting the door behind him.

Stan stood up, hands wringing in front of him as he slowly approached Kenny.

"Kenny, I'm so-"

"Don't. I know you're sorry."

"I don't know what else to say..." Stan whispered, lowering his head.

Kenny sighed, scratched at the nape of his neck.

Stan pursed his wobbling lip and was a bit bolder as he came closer.

"Kenny, I still love you," he said, voice at a straining, desperate octave. "Just because I slept with Kyle doesn't mean I don't want you anymore. But... lately, I can't get him and Eric out of my head, and I thought that if I saw them again then maybe I would get... closure. I-I-I don't know." He threw his hands up. "But I felt terrible having these thoughts while I was with you, when you're so good to me..."

"Why didn't you tell me you were feeling this way?" Kenny asked, finally looking into his eyes. "I would've understood."

"I..." Stan stopped, body drooping as his once noble excuse now sounded so flimsy. "I didn't wanna hurt you."

"And you thought fucking Kyle was the less painful alternative?"

Stan shook his head, looked into Kenny's eyes again.

"I didn't mean for it to happen."

Kenny fidgeted, folded his arms across his chest.

"Was Eric... there? Was he involved too?"

"No." Stan shook his head. "No, he didn't come home until we'd... finished."

Kenny nodded, brushed past Stan to drop onto the couch. He looked up at him.

"So what do you wanna do, Stan?"

"What? I told you, I wanna be with you," he replied, taking a seat next to Kenny. "I... I want to put this all behind me-"

"No, that's what you think you should do, that's not what you really want... and if you find it so hard to be honest with yourself, then maybe I should tell you what I think is going on here."

Stan nodded, curious for Kenny's insight into his relationship with Kyle and Eric when he never had been before. Stan didn't think Kenny thought too much about it.

"Okay..."

"I think you want both, that much is obvious. I think you _need_ both. We love each other, and you want the life we're making together but you have this overwhelming connection with Eric and Kyle. They found you during a low point of your life, and helped you discover something positive in all the negativity surrounding you so... it's natural that they mean a lot to you. It's natural that you don't want to give that up." Kenny smiled, shrugged. "I mean, why should you?"

Stan's brow furrowed.

"Because I love you... and being in love means you make sacrifices."

"But you're in love with Eric and Kyle too," Kenny pointed out, calm and measured, sounding more than ever like the counsellor he wanted to be. "What about their feelings?"

Stan blinked. Honestly, he had never considered that, but only because he had assumed he was extraneous to their relationship. A cherry-on-top if anything, but not their complete happiness.

"That's different." He shook his head. "They have each other."

"But you're a part of their relationship now too. You'll always be the missing piece. You say relationships require sacrifice, and sometimes they do. But they also require compromise. I think that's the far more realistic way of approaching things, and I've been thinking..." Kenny paused, closed his eyes, took a breath. He smiled as he opened his eyes. "I would be happy to share you, Stan."

Stan opened his mouth and closed it again when he realised he had nothing to say. Was Kenny serious? It was then he felt fingers wrapping around his wrist. He looked at Kenny's thumb rubbing encouraging circles into his skin, before looking back up to see that Kenny had not wavered.

Now this he had _never_ considered.

_It has to be too good to be true._

"Wh... _really_?"

Kenny just nodded, like it was the most simple thing in the world.

Stan gulped. He had to make sure Kenny was doing this for the right reasons, that he really wanted to do it and not because he felt he _had_ to do it to keep Stan around.

"Kenny, that's... that a big thing for me to ask of you."

Kenny shrugged.

"Not really, not if it makes you happy. I would rather be open about it, than for you to hide things from me. Not just the sex, but..." he squeezed Stan's wrist a little tighter. "Bottling up how you feel too."

"But what about your happiness? You would really be happy, sitting here in our apartment, knowing I'm sleeping with two other guys?"

Kenny sat up a little straighter, eyebrow arched.

"Well, who says I'd be sitting here? I..." his eyes wandered to Stan's arm, and he started stroking the underside with feathery touches. "I was kinda hoping I could join you."

Stan's eyes widened so much it felt like they were going to pop out of his sockets. He couldn't believe this was happening, that this was possible.

"Y-y-you were?"

"Yeah..." Kenny smiled. "If you'd want that."

Stan couldn't want anything more. The best of both worlds, when he thought he had wrecked it.

"I would..." he replied, almost breathless, shifting closer to Kenny.

"And if Eric and Kyle-"

"Are you kidding me?" Stan grinned. "Who wouldn't want you?"

Kenny sighed, head flopping back onto the couch cushion dramatically.

"Yeah, you're right..." he grinned. "I'm a catch."

Stan chuckled, glad to see Kenny return to his goofy self. Soon, they were both laughing softly, and it felt like the sound of tension leaving their bodies... and maybe disbelief at what they were about to embark on. But Stan didn't want to get carried away.

"Kenny, this isn't exactly conventional."

"Well, I try not to be..."

"So how do we... start?" Stan asked, stomach fluttering with nerves. He shifted closer. "Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know. You have a little more experience with this than I do," Kenny pointed out.

Stan smiled in agreement.

"I'll call Eric and Kyle, see what they think..." he tried to slow his rushing mind by looking at Kenny, and when he did he was filled with gratitude. "Thank you for being so understanding."

He collapsed into Kenny's arms, but they held each other up in a tight embrace.

"You don't know lucky you are, Stan..." Kenny murmured, before pulling away to look at him. He brushed his thumb against his cheek. "To have three people who love you so much."

Stan nodded, it was, indeed, so easy to forget that. He pressed his lips to Kenny's.

* * *

All this time spent apart from Eric and Kyle had seemed to hit the reset button for Stan. The night had finally come, the night he could have only ever imagined in his wildest dreams, and he was stood in Eric and Kyle's bathroom; hair mussed, pants unbuckled, inhaler in hand. He took another steady puff, knowing he had taken more than was recommended, and the benefits were purely psychological at this point. He sighed as he stared in the mirror, breath and body quivering. He knew it was silly to feel so nervous when he had done this countless times before. But there was an element of novelty to this encounter. Kenny was there this time, and even though he was the newcomer, he was taking this whole evening in his usual mellow, charismatic stride. Stan supposed that Kenny had always been more sexually liberated than him, and he didn't need to have threesomes on the regular to achieve that. Eric and Kyle loved him, as Stan knew they would, and the evening had been a fun, chill night of sharing stories, and jokes, and drinking. Kenny had made himself right at home, and the apartment honestly suited him. Conversation and smiles came so easily that Stan could have kidded himself they had known each other their whole lives.

He smiled at the thought, before he was distracted by a knock at the door.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

Stan's smile returned at the sound of Kenny's voice.

"Sure..."

Kenny slipped into the bathroom with a sheepish smile, and Stan was surprised to see him stood there in his t-shirt and briefs.

"Hey," he said. "What's up?"

Stan blinked, raked his gaze over bare, tanned legs.

"You're not wearing pants."

Kenny snickered, rubbed at the nape of his neck.

"Yeah, Eric just took them off..."

Stan blinked again, brows twitching. His nerves were melting into intrigue.

"Jesus, what have I missed?"

"Not much. We've just been kissing, there's been some dry-humping and groping." Kenny's shoulders slouched, eyes rolling to the ceiling. "God, Kyle's tongue is-"

"I know," Stan cut in, grinning. He remembered how mesmerised he was by Kyle's talented tongue during their first tryst. "He's a great kisser, and he's even better at giving head."

Kenny hummed softly under his breath. A tooth snagged on his lip as he ran his gaze over Stan.

"We're all waiting for you..." he held out his hand. "Ready?"

Stan nodded, he couldn't wait any longer. He held Kenny's hand, finally seizing what he wanted.

In the bedroom, Eric and Kyle were already stripped down to their underwear; hands roaming over places they had touched a million times, and exchanging indulgent, nuzzling kisses. Stan and Kenny's hands were still intertwined, both prickling with sweat.

"Hey..." Kyle smiled when he pulled away, flushed and breathless. "Everything alright?"

Stan's shoulders lifted as he and Kenny approached the bed.

"Yeah, I guess I was just a little..." his face was heating up. "Nervous..."

He offered Kenny a small, shy smile when he traded their linked fingers for a gentle, soothing stroke of his forearm.

Eric laughed, and arched an eyebrow at him.

"Come on, it's not as if you haven't done this before..."

"Well, it's been a while!" Kyle pointed out. "For all of us! And Kenny has never done this before."

Kenny raised his hands.

"Yeah, I'll just follow you guys' lead on this one..."

"Hey, that's a good idea!" Kyle grinned, sitting up on his knees. "Stan, come over here and you tell us what you want to do. We can go as slow as you like..." Kyle's voice had lowered to en encouraging, velvety octave.

Stan gulped, looked between the three, expectant faces for any objections, before nodding.

"Okay..."

He dropped his already loose pants to his ankles, kicking them off his feet before climbing onto the bed. He kneeled at the centre of the bed, with Eric lounging beside him, Kyle perched on the other side, and Kenny stood at the foot of the bed with an encouraging smile. Stan would be lying if he said the three pairs of eyes staring at him wasn't slightly intimidating, but being the literal centre of attention from the people he wanted and craved the most, and having all the control in the palm of his trembling, sweating hand was exhilarating more than anything else.

He swallowed again, words were hard to find in his dry mouth.

"Alright, I, uh..." he blinked, cleared his throat. He knew what he wanted, but he was struggling to vocalise it. "Kyle? I-I-I wanna see you and Kenny make out."

His cheeks were heated, and he could feel his chin lowering before he could stop it, as if the pretty tame request were too forward.

Kenny looked at Kyle with a small, daring smile. Kyle nodded in return, biting back a smile of his own. He crawled towards Kenny, practically slithering into his arms and falling into his easy, natural kiss. Stan watched Kenny's eyebrows draw together, his tongue swipe across Kyle's lips and tongue, before his hands came up to cradle Kyle's face. When Kyle reached around to cup Kenny's ass with one hand, while slipping under his shirt with the other, his brows softened, eyelids fluttered. Enthralled, and mouth heavy, Stan crawled closer. He had kissed Kenny thousands of times, and enjoyed each and every peck, suck, and nip, but with his eyes closed he never got to see the expressions Kenny made when kissing, and he loved the sight just as much as he loved the press of his lips or the invasion of his hot, wet tongue. Stan wetted his own lips, and his cock twitched in his boxers.

There was familiar body heat behind him, a familiar, alluring scent drifting into his nose, and hot, ragged breath on the nape of his neck that he had missed so much. Eric's breath made the fine hairs of his neck stand on end, like prey stiffening when they see a predator's, gleaming, trained eyes on them in the undergrowth. But Stan had no problem with getting caught, he would gladly succumb. Stan was now sat in between Eric's thick, spread thighs, his smaller, bony kneecaps pressed flush to Eric's big, round ones. Eric placed slow, warm kisses on his neck that only made Stan more pliable. When he pressed his nose into the side of his neck and nuzzled, Stan let his head fall back onto his shoulder, exposing more of his neck and slender throat. He moaned, eyes drifting shut, and it was only when Eric abruptly grabbed his chin, did they fly open again, lidded and hazy. Eric brought Stan to his lips, and shoved his tongue in his mouth. He whimpered, high and muffled, and squirmed when Eric rubbed his clothed erection against his ass. Stan ground his hips in return, and Eric chuckled.

"You've missed this, huh?"

He smiled against Stan's lips, a thin string of saliva connected them.

Stan nodded, smashing their lips together as they dry-humped.

"Lift your arms..."

Stan obeyed, lifting his arms and letting Eric pull his shirt over his head. He discarded it on the floor. They turned their attention to Kyle and Kenny, still very much into their make-out session. Stan and Eric rocked together, and the line between being turned on by each other, and turned on by watching their boyfriends touch and kiss was a blurry, but very hot one. Stan was tenting in his boxers now.

Eric removing Stan's shirt must have encouraged Kyle to do the same. Kenny raised his arms, and Kyle lifted his shirt to reveal his slim chest decorated with tattoos.

"Nice tattoos, man..." Eric commented.

Kenny chuckled, ran a hand through his dishevelled hair.

"Thanks..."

Shirt discarded, Kyle leaned back in for a kiss, but was stopped by Kenny tugging at his hair. He smirked.

"So, uh, Stan tells me you give really good head..."

Kyle arched an eyebrow at Stan, making him flush all over again.

"Oh, he did, huh?"

Eric chuckled against Stan's warm cheek, scorching it.

"He's not wrong..." he tilted his head to address Kyle. "Why don't you show him?"

He narrowed his eyes at Eric.

"I thought Stan was supposed to be in charge..." he said, but dropped to his knees anyway.

Eric shrugged.

"Just a suggestion..."

Kyle had already tugged down Kenny's boxers, and was placing his cock between his lips. Stan had to bite back a gasp, squirming at the startled, choked-off moan that escaped Kenny's lips as Kyle sucked at the head of his dick.

"Do you like that, Stan?" Eric asked, pinching his nipple when Stan didn't answer quickly enough.

Stan cried out, and nodded, face creased and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He wanted to watch Kenny's face contort in pleasure, watch his head throw back, and see how much Kyle could take of him in his throat, but it was hard to keep his searing eyes open when Eric's hands were all over him. He played with a nipple in one hand, and jacked him off with short, quick motions over his boxers in another, but Stan wasn't complaining. He couldn't complain, just grind his hips against Eric's, and reach behind him to keep steady. He found purchase in the soft rolls of Eric's belly.

Eric stopped what he was doing to wrestle Stan's underwear over his hips, exposing his flushed, hard cock to the room. While he fumbled around in the nightstand for something, Stan watched Kyle and Kenny. Kyle's face was streaked red, sucking Kenny hard and fast while he palmed at himself over his underwear. Kenny was struggling to keep his eyes open too, trying to fix them on Kyle and he watched him with his mouth agape. His fingers were tangled in Kyle's hair, encouraging him with quick, staccato moans and panting breaths. Stan was mesmerised - panting, head whirring, lips parted, and mouth heavy. He was so wound up by Eric's touch, and so fixated on Kyle and Kenny, that he barely noticed Eric resuming his position behind him, until a hand reached around to grasp his cock, wet with lube.

Stan cried out, a strangled noise of surprise and delight, as Eric jacked him off. Eric continued to thrust and Stan continued to rut against him, and it helped Eric find a perfect, slippery rhythm. Stan's needy moans, and the relentless, wet slap of Eric's hand was loud enough to draw Kyle and Kenny's attention. Kyle pulled away before Kenny could cum, and, intrigued, they perched themselves on the end of the bed, dark eyes roaming all over him.

"Does that feel good, Stan?" Kenny asked.

" _Unnh... yeah..."_

Eric snickered, gloating.

"I think he wants to be fucked..." Eric grabbed Stan's chin again, forced them face-to-face. "Don't you?" he asked, voice taut and stare intense, thrusting harder. "You wanna get fucked right into the mattress, huh?"

Stan's cheeks were smushed between Eric's thumb and forefinger. He could barely breathe, but there was no way he was going to run to the bathroom to use his inhaler now. He nodded, and a glinting grin appeared on Eric's face. He chuckled.

"Any preference who does the fucking, Stan?" He asked, turning Stan's head again to look at Kyle and Kenny, and he swivelled between the two. "It's your choice..."

Stan whimpered, wondering if Eric knew just how much those words meant. He was being _given_ the choice, was free to make a decision based on what he wanted at his core, rather than making the decision he felt he _should_ make. A decision that was more for the benefit of others. When the only opinions that mattered were those of the three men in front ( _and behind_ ) him. They were all he ever wanted.

 _"Ken... "_ Stan panted. _"Kenny..."_

"Alright... Kenny, show us how you fuck him..."

Eric released Stan unceremoniously, but Kenny caught him before he could collapse onto the mattress, cupping his face and bringing him to his lips. Stan sighed with his whole body at the affectionate kiss, tasting of acceptance and understanding. Stan had always felt as though Kenny were hypnotic in bed, his touches and kisses made the whole world disappear around them, and suddenly they were naked, or fucking with Stan having hazy recollections of how they got there. Now, he was lying on the mattress, fingers in Kenny's sweaty hair and tracing his writhing back, mouths fused together, while Kyle and Eric touched themselves as they watched on. Stan could have kidded himself the rest of the world outside of this bedroom had melted. They were all that mattered.

Kenny pulled away to reach for the lube. He coated his fingers, parting and lifting Stan's legs slightly so he could slide his hand between their bodies. Stan threw his head back, moaning to the ceiling as Kenny slipped a finger in. He was always slow and tentative at first, becoming more impatient when he could feel Stan was starting to relax. A second finger was soon added, and Kenny leaned in to kiss and nip at Stan's exposed neck. Despite the heat of the bedroom, and Kenny's warm, sultry lips, he shivered at the feeling.

"Tell me when you're ready..." Kenny murmured to his skin.

He pushed his fingers deeper inside him, and Stan wriggled and groaned.

" _N-n-now... unnh-now!"_

"Turn around, Stan..." Eric commanded.

Stan complied, turning around on all fours. His elbows and knees were pressed into the mattress, with his ass raised in the air. Kyle and Eric had shifted so they were now kneeling either side of his face, holding their red, gleaming cocks and staring at him with dark, hazy eyes. Kyle reached into the nightstand and pulled out a condom, handing it to Kenny, who was on his knees behind him.

"Thanks, man..."

Kyle looked down at Stan, smiling at him and running a hand through his drenched hair as Kenny busied himself with the condom. Stan returned the smile when Kyle's hand slid to his cheek, and he keened to the gentle touch. But when Kenny began to enter him, his head fell, crying out as he tried to adjust to that familiar feeling of being stretched. When Kenny was fully seated inside him, Stan pushed his hips back against him, fucking himself on Kenny to encourage his rhythm. Kenny thrust, steady and deep at first, before he picked up his pace.

 _"F-f-fuck yeah... "_ he moaned. _"That's it, Stan..."_

His fingers were squeezing Stan's hips, pulling him back on to his cock when Stan was already matching his thrusts. Stan's head was still hung, eyes squeezed shut and moaning with every thrust, but the groans and whimpers of those around him were ringing in his ears.

"Stan..." Kyle whispered, strained and needy.

When Stan lifted his head Kyle was jerking off in front of him, guiding his cock to his mouth. Stan didn't need any further encouraging, craning his neck to start sucking him off.

" _Aahh..._ " Kyle moaned, grabbing Stan's hair while his other hand continued to hold his cock to his mouth.

Stan cracked an eye open, noticing that Eric was jerking off too, eyes trained on him. He shifted slightly, reaching up to grasp Eric's cock. He began jerking him off in short, rapid motions and Eric soon let Stan's hand take over. Stan had no idea how he was even able to do this. His face was burning, his cock was stiff and aching, and his mind was an incoherent puddle... or maybe a geyser steaming with the sound of his skin smacking against Kenny's, and the moans filling the room. But his body was bouncing back against Kenny's thrusts, which were helping him keep to the quick, tight rhythm of sucking Kyle's cock.

Kyle soon pulled back however, and Stan took that as his cue to switch. Mindlessly, he released Kyle's cock with a small wet pop and placed Eric's between his lips, jerking Kyle off and still keeping to his rhythm. A choked, impressed sound left Eric's lips that Stan would've smiled at if his mouth wasn't full.

"J-j-jesus fucking Christ... are you ambidextrous or something?" Eric managed to ask. " _Oh god..."_

Stan's whole body felt as though it were on fire, such pleasure was debilitating, and he was deriving just as much of it from giving it to Kenny, Eric, and Kyle, as he was receiving it from Kenny's cock hitting his prostate with every hard thrust, or when Eric had wrapped his hand around his cock, or all those times Kyle had shoved his tongue in his mouth. But Stan could tell it was soon to come to an end. Kenny's moans were tripling every second, Eric's fingers were almost pulling his hair from the roots as he held his head still and fucked his face, and Kyle's hips were jerking into Stan's palm. Stan too could feel his whole body drawing tight, chest, balls, ass, every muscle in his body as it approached the release he had been building up to all evening.

" _I-I-I'm gonna cum..."_ Kenny moaned.

" _Mmmhm..._ " Kyle whimpered, chewing his bottom lip.

"Stan..." Eric murmured, pulling him off his cock.

Stan looked up at him, wide-eyed and drooling. Eric smiled, played with his hair.

"Finish Kyle off..."

Without another word, Stan switched to Kyle, sliding his mouth over his shaft and easily taking him into his throat.

" _Aaah, Stan!"_ Kyle cried, body seizing and arching to receive him.

Kyle came down his throat within seconds, and Stan choked. He pulled away from Kyle's dick, coughing and eyes watering. He swallowed, still tasted Kyle.

"It's okay..." Kyle whispered, exhausted but satisfied. He stroked Stan's hair. "It's okay..."

He rested his head in Kyle's lap, nuzzling at his thigh and inhaling the musky scent of sweat there, but was soon pulled up by his hair. Eric was jerking off desperately, brows furrowed, and eyes struggling to stay open as he stared at Stan. He threw his head back and groaned as he came in Stan's face. Stan gasped, too tired to wipe the warm cum away and when it slid, slowly, down his cheek, he poked his tongue out and licked it from his skin. Kyle tried to wipe some away, but Stan's face was soon shoved into the pillow. Kenny had leaned forward, fucking him even harder and deeper and Stan screamed with every thrust. Kenny's lips parted at his shoulder, nipped at his neck, and were pressed to his ear when he finally came with a broken shout. Stan followed soon after, tears filling his eyes at his overwhelming orgasm, and he sobbed deliriously as he and Kenny rode out their orgasms together. Kenny continued to fuck him, slow, and indulgent, kissing and nuzzling his hair.

Stan's body flopped onto the mattress when Kenny pulled out, boneless, and slippery with sweat and cum. He had really made a mess of Eric and Kyle's bedding. He felt drunk as he tried to roll over. Lying on his back, he saw Kenny sitting in between his legs, back on his heels.

"You alright?" Kyle asked. His head was resting in his lap, and he pushed Stan's hair back from his face.

Stan nodded, delirious.

"Told you he wanted to get fucked into the mattress." Eric snickered, wiping the glob of cum off Stan's face with his thumb.

"So..." Kenny's fingers had wrapped around his ankle, stroking him. He grinned. "How was that?"

An elastic grin stretched across Stan's face and he wriggled in contentment. When he thought this would be impossible, there was only one word to describe it.

" _Perfect..."_


End file.
